


Living the Life That You Dreamed

by turps



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry for SeSa. Written for Beth. Justin/JC AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living the Life That You Dreamed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ephemera for beta reading.

The stories have been told from one generation to the next. A place where water is plentiful and stomachs are always full. Men who can move like lightening and camps that vanish into the night. A place where laughter is heard on the wind and rainbows of colour are everywhere, scattered on clothes and tents for all to see.

The stories are told but only a few believe.

~*~*~*~*~

  
Justin knows he’s being watched. Even at this distance, when the camp is nothing but a blur on the landscape he can feel the constant scrutiny, invisible eyes monitoring his every move. Occasionally he catches a glimpse. A flash of red against grey rocks, a stone clattering down to thump against the sand, blurs of movement where none should be.

His skin prickles with the realisation and he fights the urge to constantly look around, knowing to do so is futile. Instead he walks on, tall and unbowed despite being foot-sore and weary, the craving for water a constant itch at the edge of his mind.

The water bottle slung over his shoulder taunts him. Empty since yesterday when he sat and savoured the feel of stale water over dry lips as he drained his bottle dry. Now he walks on, shaky and faint but hiding both as he keeps on going, determined to show no weakness as the end of his journey finally nears.

He refuses to consider the possibility of being turned away. That won’t happen, he’s journeyed too long, worked too hard and followed too many tenuous leads to fail now. They have to let him stay. He straightens his shoulders and picks up his pace, sheer determination keeping him walking as sand sucks down his feet and the sun shines bright overhead.

It’s a pace he can’t keep for long and soon even the sight of ragged scarlet flags, vivid and bold against the dull landscape isn’t enough to keep him moving. Justin drops to his knees and attempts to crawl, hands scrambling against sharp rock and scalding sand.

The last thing he hears as he collapses to the ground is laughter, high and unashamed and as he slips into blackness. He smiles. The sound is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard.

~*~*~*~*~

“You’re going to wake him.”

“It’s time he woke; he’s been sleeping for almost a day.”

The voices surround Justin, streaks of light in the darkness of his mind and he struggles to focus on them, pushing through the pain of sun scorched skin that feels tight and burnt.

“Maybe, he needs more water anyway, help me lift his head.”

The touch is gentle, careful fingers cupping his head but Justin can’t help but gasp as his body reacts with immediate pain.

“You need to drink this, it’ll make you feel better I promise.”

The voice is kind, soothing in tone. Justin latches onto it, listening to the constant stream of comforting words as water is dribbled over his cracked lips and swollen tongue. Someone else is sponging his arms and chest, cooling his burning skin with gentle touches. That person talks too, their voice a pleasant contrast to the other, high and low tones twisting together and creating a sound that lulls Justin back to sleep, comforted in body and mind.

~*~*~*~*~

When Justin first opens his eyes it’s to semi darkness. The only light cast by a flickering lamp hanging nearby that twists shadows across the walls of the room. A breeze glides across his body and he becomes aware of his nakedness, stretched out on a soft surface that feels silky to the touch, so unlike his bedclothes back home. Investigating further he carefully moves his head, then gasps and gropes for a blanket when he sees someone sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

The man who speaks seems amused but Justin can’t help the blush that adds more heat to his face as he lies still, hands cupped protectively over his groin.

“We’ve been watching you for a while now.” The man stands and picks up a mug from the floor. “Lance didn’t think you’d make it this far but I had faith, you look like a scrappy little thing, which is good. You won me the bet. Here, drink this.”

Any protest dies as a cup is pressed against Justin’s lips. He drinks eagerly, embarrassment swept away by the taste of cool water, swallowing greedily until the cup is taken away.

“You’ll be sick if you drink more.” The man places the cup back on the floor, ignoring Justin’s weak protest, then stands at the side of the bed, eyes sharp as he looks slowly from Justin’s close cropped head to his reddened feet. It’s an apprising look and all Justin wants to do is hide away, but he doesn’t. Instead he stares back, matching the stare with one of his own, refusing to show any weakness to this stranger who seems to look into his very soul.

“Do I pass?” Justin asks. It’s mostly sarcasm hiding the real fear that he’s about to be thrown back outside, buck naked and weak, easy prey for the creatures that haunt the night.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” Once again the man catches Justin’s gaze and his eyes seem to blaze fire, scorching Justin with their intensity. Then within a blink of an eye things change and the man shrugs and half smiles. “JC likes the look of you so yeah, you pass. I’d better go tell him you’re awake and get you some clothes.”

“Thank you,” Justin says and he struggles to sit up, ignoring the flaring pain of his burnt skin. “For you know, the water and things.”

“It isn’t a thing.” The man stops, hand against the wall. “I won’t be long so stay here, no wandering until I come back.” He disappears and Justin shakes his head as he hears fading footsteps from outside. It isn’t like he’s going to go wandering anywhere, not when he feels like he’s been baked in one of the furnaces back home and especially not when his clothes are nowhere to be seen. He can however explore the room and he shuffles forward on the bed, thankful for the smooth sheets that ease his movement until he sits on the side.

With each passing moment he feels better, youth and curiosity overriding the pain and he stands, wobbling on his feet before taking a cautious step forward. At first Justin stumbles, and that’s how he finds out the walls aren’t solid when he nearly pitches through to the other side. Sheer determination keeps him upright as he catches himself, staggering for a few steps until he finally feels steady. Holding out his hand he runs it across the fabric, feeling it slip over his palm as he slowly walks, looking around in amazement all the while at the deep blue walls of the room that seem to shimmer, moving minutely with the outside air. The contrast to Justin’s old home is incredible. Back there he lived among grey concrete and steel, all sharp angles and harsh lines, nothing like this with its simple fluid beauty.

Eventually he reaches the place where the man disappeared into the night. Up close it’s apparent there’s an exit there where the material overlaps and Justin runs his finger over the seam, needing to look outside but all too aware of his lack of clothes. Still, temptation is almost overpowering and he hooks his fingers at the join and starts to pull, only to jump back when the man suddenly pushes back inside.

“I hope you weren’t going out like that, you’d be eaten alive,” he says flatly and hands over a bundle of clothes. “These used to be JC’s. The dude changes clothes more than anyone I know so he won’t miss them. I would have given you some of mine but you know.” The man shrugs indicating his loose shirt and green pants that would end calf length on Justin. “He’s a tall freak like you so they should fit.”

“He said it was okay?” Justin has to ask the question as he holds up the clothes even while knowing to give them up now would be heartbreaking. He’s used to clothes made for function. Grey pants and shirts in material that chafes at the skin. He’s never seen anything like this, fabric that slides across his fingers, so thin it feels like air and the colours, so blue it seems he holds a piece of the morning sky.

“I didn’t steal them, that’s for sure.” It’s said lightly but Justin sees the shudder, filing the information carefully away as the man sits on the bed, tapping the heels of his bare feet against the sandy floor as he pointedly waits.

Justin takes the hint, pulling on the shirt and pants with careful movements, revelling in the scrape of fabric against his skin.

“I don’t know how he does it, always gets the sensualists.”

Justin isn’t sure if he’s meant to answer, the man sounds like he’s talking to himself, voice low and amused, but he’s looking at Justin, a smile quirking his lips.

“Are you talking to me?” Justin asks at last and his hands still against his chest, fingers splayed over the gauzy material.

“Eh, no, just myself.” The man jumps to his feet then, pulling aside the fabric door to reveal the darkness outside. “We’d better go; he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Come on then…what’s your name anyway?”

“Justin. Justin Timberlake.”

“Justin.” The man stands half in half out of the tent and the moonlight bleaches any colour from his skin as he says Justin’s name out loud. “I don’t know what it’s like back at The City but we don’t do last names here, something to remember if you decide to stay. I’m Chris.”

The man, Chris, walks out and holds back the material so Justin can follow. He does so eagerly, excitement raging through his body at finally seeing the place he’s heard so much about. The mythical camp that moves like the wind and the people who live inside it, people who sing and dance, wearing clothes that would be seen as obscene in the world Justin left behind.

Ridiculed for believing, Justin can hardly believe he’s here and looks around, all pretence of calm gone as he takes in great fires that send sparks high. Tents grouped together surrounded by flags that flutter like they’re alive in the night sky. Even in the dead of night things seem alive, voices floating on the wind, a distant pounding beat that surrounds Justin from all sides, echoes of sounds rippling over his skin.

He holds his arms out then, as if he can grab notes from the air and startles himself by laughing out loud, years of rules ripped away at the knowledge he’s finally free. Chris seems content to wait, standing to one side, arms crossed and amused as Justin spins once then finally stills.

“I’m sorry,” Justin apologises, but he keeps smiling, even as Chris takes his arm and tows him quickly past tents that glow from inside.

“It’s okay, I like seeing this place from new eyes.” Then Chris stops as they approach the biggest tent of all. For the first time he seems uncomfortable and looks from Justin to the entrance then back again. “I have to go. JC’s waiting to see you inside. Just. Don’t let down your guard or he’ll eat you alive.”

With those words Chris disappears into the night, slipping into the shadows so easily that Justin could believe he’d never been there. Left alone Justin tries to calm the nerves which flutter in his belly as he takes a deep breath and walks forward, determined to prove to this JC that he deserves to stay.

~*~*~*~*~

It’s dark inside the tent, but totally unlike the darkness of outside. Tiny flickering flames burn in red glass containers and the shadows almost seem alive, reaching out with grasping fingers as Justin walks forward. He keeps his back straight and head held high as he passes men and women who lounge on floor cushions, staring at him hungrily and undressing him with their eyes. They say nothing, just _look_ but those looks seem to strip him to the bone and he almost stumbles as he finally approaches a man who appears from behind a silken curtain.

“JC?” Justin questions, but he isn’t surprised when the man shakes his head with a smile.

“I wish. No, he’s waiting for you in there. I’d hurry up and go in; he’s been waiting a while.” The man pulls back the curtain and hurries them both inside then turns away with a last smile, leaving Justin standing seemingly alone.

He looks around, aware he’s not at all but unable to see anyone in the dim room. Here too, lamps splutter in dark corners, casting pools of light that highlight a bed in the middle of the room. Huge and decadent it’s covered with material that sweeps to the floor, rich reds and blues that clash for attention and Justin can’t help moving forward, hand outstretched as he strokes silken sheets with reverent care.

“It took me three months and far too much money to get those.”

Justin jumps back as if burned when he hears someone speak. Heart hammering he forces himself to breathe as one of the darkest shadows moves, taking form as a man who approaches slowly, grace apparent in every step.

Immediately Justin is captivated, all his attention on the approaching man, examining long dark curls that seem to dance with flames, down past a close fitting black shirt and pants to bare feet adorned by thin leather bands. He’s unlike anyone Justin’s seen before, yet he still recognises him. It’s impossible not to as he finally sees the vague people of his dreams become real.

“There’s no need to be scared. I’ve been waiting to see you. I’m JC”

Amusement is apparent in JC’s voice when Justin flushes and wipes his palm down the side of his pants before holding out his hand.

“We’re not that formal here, why shake hands when a kiss would do just as well?” JC steps forward and Justin can hardly breathe as he’s kissed on both cheeks, each soft touch stinging his tender skin as he wonders how to react to the strangeness of such casual contact. Then JC steps back, expression serious but eyes reflecting fire. “And you are?”

“Justin.” Justin blinks rapidly and shakes his head, trying to banish the stuffiness of his mind.

“Justin. I like that name. There was a Justin here before but he had to go.” JC seems lost in thought and for the briefest of moments his eyes and lips narrow before he smiles once more. “But enough of him, tell me about you. Not many people find us out here; you must want something very badly.” JC sits on the side of the bed and pats the space next to him. “Come, sit.”

Without hesitation Justin sits, mimicking JC’s pose and twisting sideways as he talks. He knows this is his chance and prepares to tell JC exactly why he should remain, knowing already that this is where he belongs. “My mom used to tell me stories about a place far away from where we lived. A place where laughter wasn’t forbidden and music wasn’t a crime. She’d tell stories about clothes that weren’t washed out grey and how people could live without rules and alarms to rule the days.” Justin pauses then, remembering his mom’s face as she stood watching him go and the tears she brushed away as the city wide alarm rang for the second time that day and the way she smiled once, before turning and walking away. “They sounded like dreams, fantasies created to brighten the endless days but I knew they were real.”

“You knew?” JC questions evenly. Justin looks at him, expecting to see scorn or disbelief, but finds none and he continues his tale.

“Yeah, I knew. They were too specific, too many details that remained the same.” Justin stops, frustrated at trying to verbalise how the knowledge of this place had always been there. “There were embellishments sure but always at the core was a place based on freedom and you don’t know how much I wanted that. To wake up without knowing what I’d be doing every minute of every day. I had a time to work, a time to sleep, a time to wash, a time to damn well do everything!” Justin thumps at the bedclothes then freezes, appalled at his own raised voice. “I’m sorry.” He ducks his head, trying to calm the remaining anger.

“For what? For having emotions? For having passion?” JC cups Justin’s chin, tipping it up so they’re looking at one another once more. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Passion is good; if you stay you’ll soon find that out.” JC’s voice is silken, seductive, using his thumb to stroke and caress. Each stroke provoking a shiver as Justin starts to fall, his grip on reality faltering as JC leans in closer, letting his lips brush against skin.

“That’s enough for now. Go.”

The words are unexpected and Justin jerks back, the intimate moment vanishing as JC moves away. Lost and off balance Justin tries to understand, holding out a hand in appeal as JC stands and looks down at him.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” JC says coolly then turns away, expression blank as he removes his clothes, stripping off his shirt with no regard to watching eyes. Chest heavy Justin stands, gathering his pride and waking out without another word, the bitter taste of failure the only thing he feels.

~*~*~*~

“Wait. Justin, wait up.”

Justin pays no heed to the call and hurries through the room only stopping when someone grabs his wrist, jerking him to a halt.

“I thought I told you not to wander? You don’t know your way around and you’re hardly used to a place like this.”

“Why don’t you tell him that? He’s the one that doesn’t want me in there,” Justin spits out and he jerks his wrist away from Chris’ grasp. Anger surges now he’s away from that room, white hot at being dismissed so casually after all he’s been through.

“Believe me, you wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want you.” Chris looks back toward JC’s room then reaches for Justin again, grabbing his hand and holding on. “He’s been busy today, he’s tired and that makes him a pissy bastard.”

Chris shrugs, clearly used to JC’s moods and steers them through a maze of tents and smouldering fires. There’s little noise now, only the distant sound of night animals shattering the silence and even with the warm touch of Chris’ hand Justin feels lonelier than he has for years, desperately missing his mom and bruised both in body and mind.

“You can sleep here tonight, there’s water in the jug and a bowl if you need it. You’ll get your throat cut if you piss in the wrong place so don’t risk it, even if a tent looks empty there could be someone on the other side.” Chris indicates a tent, eyes bright as he seems to remember some old joke. Then he turns serious, expression sympathetic as he sees through Justin’s shaky defences. “Mine’s the one to the right, that purple one there. If you need anything just knock or slap or something.”

Justin nods, needing the offer but also desperately needing to be alone, something Chris seems to understand as he pushes into his tent. Justin does the same. As soon as he’s inside he drops to the bed, doubled over and hurting in ways that don’t seem possible. His skin feels tight, red raw and sore and pain throbs in his head, matching the one in his chest when he thinks of his mom -- and JC.

~*~*~*~

Waking curled on top of the covers of his bed; Justin lies with his eyes closed tight, needing those few minutes before facing the day. He’s still sore and the need to see him mom is constant but he pushes those feelings aside, concentrating on the delight that bubbles up inside. The knowledge that he was right after all and no one will ever mock him again for believing in a dream.

Eager to explore now he scoops water from the jug in his hand, splashing it against his face and wincing as it hits his sore face. Carefully he washes away the sand that seems to be ingrained in his skin then carefully straightens his clothes, pleasure surging once more at the slippery feel against his skin. Marginally cleaner he hurries to the door, eager to explore. Then stops, fingers curled around the fabric, knowing his new life is waiting for him outside. It’s a heady emotion, excitement twisting with anticipation and he smiles, unable to keep the happiness trapped inside.

Allowing himself a moment to just _feel_ Justin finally steps outside. The contrast between the dim coolness of the tent and the scorching brightness making him squint before using his hand to shadow his eyes. Enthusiastically looking around he takes in the tents that surround him, rich exotic colours that shine bright under the blazing sun, ashes that smoulder black and red, abandoned blankets and pillows and, in contrast to the vivid softness of his immediate surroundings, a row of gleaming motorbikes. Justin doesn’t even try to resist their call.

At a distance they’re compelling, up close they’re beautiful. Highly polished and far removed from the functional vehicles used in the city Justin left behind. This close he wants to feel and does so, running his hand across the soft seat and over the delicately curved handlebars. Worshiping with his touch, he can’t help imagining himself on the bike, tearing across the desert as free as the wind.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?”

Justin jerks back his hand, embarrassed when he realises JC is standing watching him and, by the amused set of his lips, has been for some time.

“I’m…” Justin is about to apologise but doesn’t. Instead he looks at JC, taking in the rumpled nature of his clothes, the half unbuttoned dark shirt exposing a pendant previously concealed in the darkness of the night before. Dark fitted pants that lead to bare feet and black polished toe nails half hidden in the sand. Fully dressed he looks darkly sexual and Justin’s never wanted anything as much. He itches to run his fingers through sweat damp curls, to explore and touch at will, discover the taste of JC’s skin until every inch of him is known.

It’s all Justin can do to remain still as JC nears.

“You’ve good taste. I have to have the best of everything and she’s the best of them all.” JC is standing close to Justin, too close, and his voice drops as he slides long fingers over the sleek handlebars. “I’ll take you for a ride soon.” The words flow over Justin, low and intimate, and he shivers as JC takes his hand from the bike and rests it on Justin’s own.

Then he’s gone, and it’s all Justin can do is grip onto the bike and wait for the craving to run after him to go away.

~*~*~*~

Agitated, Justin walks through the camp. He explores open tents that contain huge ovens manned by men and women in shorts and t-shirts, hair hidden under sweat stained bandanas. They fill bowls of something that makes Justin’s mouth water, handing it out to a sleepy eyed crowd who eat grouped together on the floor. When a bowl is pushed into Justin’s hand he starts to refuse, then his stomach rumbles, reminding him of just how long it’s been since he ate the last of the food he’d taken from home. With that reminder he holds out his bowl, inhaling the sweet smelling steam of his food then takes a seat alone, where he eats uncaring of watching eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Justin looks up, shading his eyes. A man stands over him, backlit by the blazing sun so that his hair and skin seems to glow. Despite the heat he seems cool in loose shorts and a t-shirt and he looks down at Justin, obviously waiting for him to reply.

“I was exploring and got hungry.” Justin shrugs and shovels in the last of his food before scrambling to his feet. “Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“No. It’s okay, we just didn’t expect to find an empty tent this morning. I thought you’d be asleep for hours yet, especially the state you were in.”

“We?” Justin questions, then faint memories suddenly make themselves known. “You were the guy with Chris, when I first came here. You gave me water.”

“That was me, you looked like a boiled and skinned rabbit. How you got here I’ll never know.” The man shakes his head and Justin bristles, feeling he’s been found lacking in some way.

“You must be Lance, right? Chris said you’d bet I wouldn’t make it that far. I hope he took you for all your money.” Justin regrets the words as soon as he says them. He knows better than to antagonise like that but that man doesn’t seem to mind as he smiles wide.

“That’s me, and he came out of that bet very well.” It doesn’t seem possible but Lance smiles even wider and Justin’s sure he sees a faint blush under his deep tan before he becomes business like once more. “Do you want the grand tour or have you seen it all?”

“I’ve seen the bikes and here, that’s all,” Justin admits and he’s pleased to see the admission seems to make Lance happy as he indicates a pile of bowls.

“Leave the bowl there, I have to go see to Flash but I’ll show you around on the way.”

Justin does as he’s told, carefully stacking his bowl with the others before following toward the outskirts of the camp. Lance turns out to be an excellent guide and it’s obvious he enjoys describing how things work as he points out the mishmash of old and new that compromises his home. The tour also includes comments about most things they pass, from the credentials of the cooks to the dress sense of a woman who hurries past dressed in purple from head to toe and Justin laughs often as they take in things he never thought possible.

The solar energy system fascinates him and the communal showers make him blush as men and women blithely walk around naked before lying on huge sheets and drying in the sun. Lance laughs when he senses Justin’s embarrassment and takes delight in introducing him to them all, making him stutter and blush through a greeting.

More then anything though, Justin delights in the atmosphere that flows around him, layered and wonderful, full of hazy mellowness threaded with an electric buzz. Justin loves it here and knows this has to be his home. He _needs_ to live here, now all he has to do is make sure they can’t send him away.

“Come on,” Lance says and Justin waves at the naked group before setting off toward an area yet unexplored. “I shouldn’t be long here then I’ll show you around more. JC said it was okay for you to stay for a few days at least.”

Justin’s heart speeds up and he frowns, hating how easily he’s affected when even the sound of JC’s name transfixes him, leaving him wanting more. Wiping his hand across his forehead, he acknowledges his own insanity, knowing JC and this place are bound together in his mind, blurring the lines of want until they’re joined as one.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Broken from his thoughts by the warm sound of Lance’s voice Justin turns to see him stroking the mane of a huge black horse.

“Meet Flash.” Lance pats the horse’s neck once more, stretching upward to scratch at its head as he looks at Justin with amusement. “She won’t bite, you can come closer.”

“I’ll stay here thanks,” Justin says, ignoring Lance’s amused snort. It’s not that Justin hasn’t seen a horse before, he has, but seeing things on a computer screen and seeing something in the flesh is a different thing. It seems folly to get closer but, as Lance efficiently fills the water and feed buckets, Justin can’t help edging forward.

Flash is huge up close, lean and graceful and Justin reaches out a hand, hesitantly pressing his hand against her neck.

“You have horses _and_ motorcycles?” Justin looks at Lance who’s carefully tying the grain sack before storing it in a metal bin.

“We have anything that can move fast,” Lance answers. “Some prefer the bikes, others ride. It’s a personal choice, as long as you’ve got something that’ll get you away if there’s a raid you’re good.”

“You get raided? I thought…” Justin breaks off. He feels sick, stomach churning at the thought of this place being over run. It’s an illogical reaction he knows, he’s been here less than twenty-four hours but already he loves it. He was born to live in this place, among people who live life to the full without restrictions and rigid rules.

“I know we look cut off to you but we’re really not. There’s a lot of roaming tribes, not all of them friendly.” Lance shrugs, seemingly unconcerned about the threat. “They don’t do it often but we’re always prepared. We’ve learned to fight back and can break camp in minutes. You get used to it after a while.”

The causal tone shocks Justin, and he stands motionless, hand twined in Flash’s mane. “I don’t know if I would, get used to it I mean.”

“If you leave you won’t have to.”

Lance’s comment is casual and not meant to be malicious in any way. It still hits Justin hard and he almost staggers as the implications hit. He hasn’t been asked to stay and that has to change because leaving isn’t an option.

~*~*~*~

Justin spends the next days healing and learning the ways of his potential new home. Each day brings a new discovery, the well at the edge of camp, the tent piled high with food and best of all the dune buggies with attached sled trailers that Justin itches to ride. He spends hours talking, finding out all he can about the life he longs to lead. Mostly alone but often accompanied by Chris or Lance and after his second night in the camp their friend Joey, a man who put Justin instantly at ease with his warm smile and willingness to talk.

From those long conversations friendships begin to form. Nights spent lying on cushions next to one of the fires. Watching as sparks fly into the air as the others talk late into the night until Justin stumbles back to his tent. Where he tumbles onto his bed with smoky hair and a full belly, happier than he’s been for years.

He never sees JC, and pretends to himself that he doesn’t care.

~*~*~*~

The summons to see JC is a relief in one way, but on the other the thought of seeing him again after so many days makes Justin’s heart race and he rubs his sweaty palms against his pants leg, knowing this is his chance to stay. The slow walk to the tent gives him a chance to calm down and he enters, determined to state his case. No one attempts to stop him and anticipation builds inside, excitement at seeing JC mixed with determination, because Justin is going to stay. He belongs here, and if JC doesn’t know that now he soon will.

“JC…” The words dry in Justin throat as he takes in the scene in front of him. A woman spread eagled on the bed, head tipped back and straddled by JC. The flush on her cheeks, the blissful look on her face as she moans makes her one of the most beautiful women Justin’s seen, but even she can’t compare to JC.

If the woman is beautiful JC is more so. Naked, his skin gleams in the low light, highlighting the sculptured lines of his body, the graceful curve of his back as he leans forward capturing the woman’s mouth with his own. Justin stifles a gasp, knowing he should back out of the room but unable to do so as the erotic sight plays in front of him. Unable to look away he licks at his dry lips, still gritty with sand, and sighs softly as JC moans with pleasure, the sound travelling and coiling in Justin’s belly as he concentrates on hanging onto the last of his control .

Then his world tilts when JC pushes up on his arms looking over his shoulder with eyes dark with desire. “Come join us Justin, Megan won’t mind.”

From the look he given Justin is sure Megan does mind but even her obvious disapproval can’t stop him walking closer. He knows he’s playing with fire, JC is beyond anything Justin has ever known, so complex that all Justin wants to do is get beyond those layers, as close as possible despite the risk of being burned.

“No need to be shy, we’re all friends here.” JC’s voice is like silk against Justin’s inflamed emotions and he kneels up, mouth quirking into a smile as Justin halts just shy of the bed. “Or do you want me alone? Is that it Justin? Do you want to be alone with me? Say the word and I’ll send her away.”

“I want you alone.” The words tumble out of Justin’s mouth without thought. He does want to be alone with JC, needing to touch so much that his fingers twitch with need as JC soothes Megan out of the bed with soft words and promises.

“Come.” JC says when she leaves and he holds out a hand to Justin, pulling him onto the bed and tugging until they’re in the centre of the silken sheets. “You’re so beautiful; I could see that even when you were brought in half dead. Beautiful determined Justin, not many do what you did, have the belief to chase a dream, and believe me this can be a dream.” JC runs his hand under Justin’s shirt, confident and sure as he slowly opens the buttons one by one, his gaze almost painful with its intensity. Justin can do nothing but hang on, giving himself up completely as his shirt is carefully removed and cast aside. When JC kisses him it’s done with care, so slow that Justin wants to beg him for more, but all he can do is fist at the sheets as he’s kissed softly, tiny kisses that hint at so much more.

“Relax, we have all the time we need,” JC says, his words causing shivers as they slide with gentle heat across Justin’s skin. Then he moves, straddling Justin and looking down with a smile as he starts to explore. His hands run over Justin’s ribs, fingers light as he traces a path up until his hands rest softly on Justin’s face, his thumbs rubbing in gentle movements as Justin squirms, needing more than this frustratingly soft contact.

“You’re killing me,” Justin says, desperation clear in his voice as he clutches at JC’s shoulders, holding tight and grounding himself as he’s threatened to be swept away with touch.

“You walked the desert for days, went to places pretty boys like you shouldn’t even know about to ask questions, and escaped from a city sealed tight. There’s no way I’m going to kill you. You’re too tough for that.”

Hearing that is almost Justin’s undoing. He’s used to seeing JC amused and aloof but this admiration is something new. Softening the planes of JC’s face as he smiles, his expression making Justin’s heart race as he sees past the outer shell to the real JC he longs to know.

“If I want something I’ll do anything to get it,” Justin admits and he digs his fingers harder into JC’s skin, grip bruising as he’s pushed back against the bed.

“I’m sure you do,” JC says and the smile leaves his face as he move closer until their faces are only inches apart. “But the thing is you can’t always have what you want.” He stares, gaze unblinking, then moves even closer, so close that Justin can feel the words against his skin. “Do you want me Justin?” You said you always get what you want. So tell me. Do you want me?”

JC’s voice flows over Justin leaving him in no doubt that he _does_ want JC, a keen want that leaves him aching to touch. Years of rules swept away by instinct as he moans, grip tightening, needing JC desperately as he lets himself fall

“Yes. God damn it. Yes.” Justin forces the answer, battling for coherency as his senses soar.

All softness leaves JC then, his kisses becoming harder, demanding responses and making Justin gasp as things quickly hurtle out of his control, and he loves it. The feeling exhilarating as his emotions spin free, twisting in the air as JC sets the pace. Kissing along Justin’s chest, licking over his jaw his talented fingers making Justin gasp nonsense words as he presses against JC, skin against skin, needing to get even closer as he’s pushed to the edge.

JC twists his hips, pressing down hard until the last of Justin’s defences crumble and he’s swept away, clinging on desperately as his whole life becomes JC. The feel of his skin, his smell, so familiar after so little time, flashes of images. Curls against damp skin, sharp blue eyes, wet lips mouthing Justin’s name.

“Do you still want me, Justin?” JC says and he licks down Justin’s neck, sucking at his collar bone as Justin writhes in place, almost crazy with want.

“I want you, damn it,” Justin says. He wants to beg, to demand more and he pushes against JC, craving contact and reaching out with greedy hands.

JC responds by pushing the pace once more, biting at Justin’s neck, his hands in constant motion, teasing and soothing in turn. “Do you trust me?”

Justin nods, words beyond him now as JC moves, liquid smooth as he peels off Justin pants, the silken material easy to remove in one swift tug that ends with them pooled on the ground. Naked now, Justin gasps as the feels of JC’s hands on his thighs, gentle touches pushing him to the edge as pleasure builds, soaring at the feel of JC’s hand on his cock. The intensity made more by the knowledge of the touch. JC’s hand, JC’s mouth against his neck, JC’s body pressed against his own, solid and hot as they grind together. Skin against skin, as Justin holds on, JC’s pleasure intensifying his own.

Everything’s JC and Justin allows himself to drown in sensation until he lies shaking on the bed, floating in space as he slowly comes back to earth.

“That was fantastic, thank you,” Justin says at last and he smiles at JC who’s stripping off his clothes at the side of the bed.

“It was,” JC agrees, and he kicks off his pants. “Just don’t think it was more than it was. You might always get what you want, but that can’t include me. Remember that.” Then JC stands, wrapping a sheet loosely around his waist before walking away.

~*~*~*~*~

Furious, Justin hurries outside. He clenches his fists as he walks, so wound up that he can hardly contain his anger. Everything seems too bright, too sharp against his senses and all he wants to do is hide away. Not that he will. He wants answers, needing to know why JC seems intent on driving him crazy and he won’t find those hiding in his tent. Then he kicks at a rock when he remembers, it’s not _his_ tent, it’s _a_ tent. He’s still a guest here after all.

The need for answers carrying him forward, Justin slaps his hand against Chris’ tent, then groans and walks back out when he sees what’s happening inside. Anger draining away he stands hesitating about where to go.

“Justin, get you ass back in here.” Chris is standing in the doorway, holding up the flap with one hand. The shorts he’s wearing are undone and his shirt unbuttoned but he seems amused as he waits for Justin to come inside. “It’s safe to come inside. No more naked Lance ass to burn your virgin eyes, just don’t look at Joey, his manliness seeps through his clothes.”

“I’m not a virgin,” Justin says indignantly and he ducks under Chris’ arm and goes inside.

“Even if you were before you went to see JC, you won’t be now.” Joey high-fives Lance, laughing at the jibe, but Justin can tell it’s friendly laughter so lets it go, at least this time.

“What’s up?” Chris asks and he dives onto the bed next to Joey and Lance. “You look a little flustered.”

“It’s just…” Justin stops, unsure how to go on. What was he supposed to say? JC won’t sleep with me? The leader of the camp makes me think I’m going crazy? It doesn’t seem right to say any of that, he’s the outsider here. How can he walk in and fall for someone in so short a time? Especially someone who obviously doesn’t care.

“JC,” Joey suggests and he looks sympathetically at Justin. “He’s intense right? Always has been.”

“That’s an understatement,” Justin interrupts and he blushes slightly while remembering how it felt to have JC concentrate totally on him.

“Oh boy, you’re gone on him alright.” Chris laughs as he speaks and he turns to Lance, poking him in the side. “That’s two for two. I told you they’d be fireworks.”

“You bet on that too!” Justin splutters in anger. “I can’t believe you’d do that.”

“Justin, wait. It’s not like that. We bet on stupid things all the time, all three of us do. It helps make things interesting.” Chris looks directly at Justin, his intense look mirroring the one JC used not an hour before. “I knew you’d appeal to JC. Not just looks but the whole thing, he likes people who work hard and know what they want and that’s totally you.”

“Yeah? Shame he doesn’t show that. He said he doesn’t want me.”

“He did?” Lance sounds surprised. “He actually said that? Because I’ve known him a long time and that doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“He said I can’t have him. I mean, I was saying that I always got what I wanted and he said I couldn’t have him.” Justin scowls, remembering anew the bitter disappointment of that moment. “See, he doesn’t want me.”

“That’s not what he said at all,” Chris scoffs, and the other two makes noises of agreement. “It may sound that way to you but he really didn’t. JC is JC. He rules this place and it’s hard work. You haven’t seen him when he’s working into the night to fix the generator or digging for water or the countless other things he does. I know it looks like he’s all about luxury but he’s really not. It’s the worst job keeping this place going and being the high profile leader. I wouldn’t do it.”

Justin feels the knot of tension inside loosen as Chris carries on. “He will want you, in fact I know he does or believe me you’d be out on your ear now. JC never allows hangers-on to stay. He just won’t allow himself to be tied down and you saying you always get what you want would have made his alarms ring. Give him time, you’ll see.”

“You think?” Justin can’t help questioning.

“I know,” Chris replies and he pats Justin on the back as he stands to fasten his clothes. “Now close those virgin eyes while Joey finishes getting dressed. The Galasso tribe are visiting soon for a trade and we need to be ready and on our toes.” His tone changes then, dropping from laughter to utterly serious. “I don’t trust any of those bastards.”

“I know,” Lance says and he sighs. “but JC can handle him, all we have to do is stand those scum nearby for a while and we’ll get what we need. Justin, you’d better stay with one of us today.”

Justin nods in agreement, and his knot of tension tightens even more than before.

~*~*~*~*~

It’s impossible not to know when the other tribe arrives. Laughter and song is replaced with a screech of sound that breaks across the camp in a sudden jarring wave, making people look up and stare as a convoy of motorbikes roar to a halt.

Lance and Chris hurry to JC, leaving Justin with Joey, standing together as things unfold. When the riders dismount Justin steps forward but Joey reaches for his arm, stopping him with a touch. “Don’t.”

Frustrated, Justin watches as JC moves forward in greeting. He looks delicate against the others, dressed in loose blue clothes against the black of their leathers, but he strides confidently forward, no hesitation at all until he stands face to face with one of the riders. Then to Justin’s shock they suddenly embrace, holding one another tight before pulling back and talking, saying words that Justin strains to hear.

“That’s Jason. He broke away years ago, said he didn’t like how things were done around here and created his own tribe,” Joey says levelly, but Justin can hear the distrust in his voice and narrows his eyes, examining the way JC holds onto Jason’s hand as they smile and talk.

“They used to be friends?”

“You could say that. They had a thing for a while, it ended when Jason left and C’s never let himself be tied to one person since.” Joey’s quiet for a moment then shakes off the silence with a forced smile. “Come on, we’d better go make nice to the rest of them while JC and Jason catch up.”

As he follows Joey, Justin’s under no illusion what the catching up will entail. Jealousy burns at the thought and he glares daggers at the floor, his bad mood worsening when he hovers on the edge of the group feeling out of his depth as the other members of Jason’s tribe are escorted to the dining area and urged to sit down. Water and food is distributed by the cooks and small talk made, Joey and Chris carrying the bulk of the stilted conversation as the two groups stare untrustingly at one another, creating an atmosphere that becomes heavier by the second.

Justin sits next to Joey and tries to fake an interest in the conversation but he’s unable to stop looking toward JC’s tent as he imagines what’s going on inside. Lost in thought he almost doesn’t see the men creeping toward the oblivious group but when he does he tries to yell a warning, only to feel a hand clasp across his mouth and a fist thump into his side.

Stunned Justin staggers and tries to pull away, struggling desperately when he sees his friends over run by men and women who silently flood the area. Soon all Justin can see are flashes of scenes that make him panic and fight back hard. Joey on the ground, a woman kicking him hard. Chris punching wildly, surrounded on all sides. Lance landing a punch that sprays blood across the sand. At one point he thinks he sees Megan hitting a man with a bowl but she soon disappears in the tangle of bodies that litter the floor.

As hands grip round his neck Justin fights back any way he can. Kicking with the heel of his foot and landing a bruising kick against a knee and pulling away. A soon as he has space he turns, fear making his punch savage as it lands against his attacker’s nose following with a kick to the balls that leaves the man in a heap on the ground. Adrenalin still raging Justin sucks in air before launching himself toward the others.

“Justin! No, go warn JC!” Joey yells. He’s on his feet now, swinging at anyone that comes close. His eye is swollen shut and blood trickles from his nose and Justin’s torn, unable to run away. “Justin, I’ll be fine, now go warn JC. Now!”

The command in Joey’s voice makes Justin move and he runs toward JC’s tent, covering the distance in seconds. For the first time the main area is empty, deserted when people ran outside to fight, and that more than anything alarms Justin because he knows if he could JC would be out here too.

“JC!” Any subtlety gone, Justin runs into the bedroom, his heart jumping when he sees Jason standing over JC, a thin gleaming knife held in one hand. Both are naked and clothes are strewn across the floor, leather twisted on silk, the evidence of hasty removal obvious. JC appears calm, looking up at Jason from where he’s pinned on the bed, but his eyes spit fire as he uses Justin’s arrival as a distraction, powering upward and pushing Jason to the floor.

“No!” Jason screams and he jumps back to his feet, rage distorting his features as he stands face to face with JC. “You’re not winning again. You think you’re always the best, your tribe never goes hungry, never has to go days with empty bellies and live from day to day. I hate you, JC. I hate you more every day and this is going to end.”

When he brings up the knife again Justin leaps forward as JC dodges to the side, but rage makes Jason determined and he slashes wildly, the blade sinking into JC’s arm.

“JC,” Justin shouts and reaches for him, but JC shakes him off, ignoring the blood that streams down his arm.

“I never made you leave, I loved you. Remember that when you wake up.” With that he uses his good arm to punch, connecting with the side of Jason’s face, making him crumple to the ground.”

Impressed, Justin makes sure Jason is out by nudging him with his boot, then takes JC’s arm, making him sit down. Keeping busy keeps Justin sane as he quickly tears JC’s bed sheet and binds his arm with strips of material.

“Didn’t I tell you those were expensive?” JC teases faintly, but Justin ignores him, bandaging as carefully as he can before easing JC down on the bed.

“Lie down now, I have to go see what’s happening outside.” Then he turns to go, but stops when JC’s blood stained hand lands on his own.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Justin replies, and he clasps his own hand over JC’s, squeezing tight before running from the room.

~*~*~*~

He’s only been here for seven days but Justin knows this is his home. Not this place but the assortment of tents, equipment and people that bustle below, preparing to flee once more. He feels disconnected from the activity, numb inside as his dream prepares to fly away. To get this far, to taste a little of what he craves and have it taken from him, is the hardest thing Justin’s ever experienced and he stares in disbelief as the tent he thought of as his own is collapsed and stowed away.

No one has time to talk as they pack supplies, preparing to ride away and all Justin can do is watch, feeling out of place and unneeded amongst the efficient bustle. He knows there’s no way to keep up on foot. All he can do is remember which way they go, and catch up later, and he will, even if it takes years.

None of them see him as he sneaks away, weaving through the carefully organised chaos until he reaches the edge of the camp. Alone, he sits on a boulder, watching as the final tent is packed and the first horse gallops away. As he hears the roar of engines Justin knows his dream is gone.

“Justin.”

Except it seems it’s not and Justin looks up at the sound of his name, stunned when he sees JC watching him from his bike. Pale and bandaged he still looks fantastic, smiling as Justin sits speechless.

“I told you I’d take you for a ride.” JC pats the seat of his bike, revving the engine as he waits. Within seconds Justin is behind him, clutching tight as they speed away.


End file.
